


Sacrifices Must Be Made

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Captain of the Guard Stilinski, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt Stiles, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lady Katherine Argent, M/M, Making Out, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Modern Royalty, No Sex, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prince Derek, Princess Cora, Princess Laura - Freeform, Queen Talia, Romantic Fluff, Royal Hales, Sharing a Bed, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Derek is crowned prince and soon to succeed to the throne, however his perception of the future becomes confused and uncertain when he meets a young boy at one of his mother’s parties. Talia – unknown of her son’s love for another – arranges Derek’s marriage to the young and beautiful Lady Katherine Argent. Derek is torn between his duty to his mother as prince and his love for the boy in the library. Which will he choose?





	1. Chapter 1

Derek tried his hardest to maintain his composure as he made his way out of the ballroom and down the carpeted hallways towards the library. He tried not to look down at the vibrant crimson and gold carpets, his head already pounding from the chatter of the party and the cliché melodies of classical music: Vivaldi, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, among many others.

He politely excused himself from any conversations or encounters, putting one foot in front of the other as he made his way towards his safe haven.

Finally reaching the library, he pushed open the thick oak double doors. He took a step inside and shut the doors behind himself.

Privacy and peace, at last.

He let out a heavy sigh and sipped at what was left of his drink.

There were large windows on the wall to his left, but at this time of night they offered no light. Instead the room was lit by small lamps that were screwed into the sides of the rich mahogany bookshelves or set upon small tables.

He turned his gaze towards the couch that had been centred in the room, his eyes falling upon the youthful face that stared back at him with a startled expression.

Derek offered him a kind smile.

“Are you escaping the party too?” he asked the guest.

“It’s a little too noisy for my liking, sir,” the boy replied, his voice scratchy and breaking with anxiety.

“No need to call me ‘sir’,” Derek assured him, politely nodding to him as he lifted his glass to his lips and sipped at the warm whiskey. He surveyed the space with his bright aventurine eyes and mused, “This is my favourite room.”

“It’s incredible,” the boy replied, quickly dropping his gaze and biting at his plump pink lip.

“You don’t have to worry about formality, please, I hate that stuff.” Derek made his way over to the couch, nodding for the boy to sit. Derek slumped down among the cushions at the other end of the couch. “I assure you, I am human and I do bleed red.”

The boy seemed anxious to lift his gaze.

“You have gorgeous eyes,” Derek said. “It’s a shame you’re so hell bent on hiding them from me.”

The boy lifted his gaze, shocked at the compliment.

They were gorgeous: chocolate brown but glittering like the golden liquor in Derek’s glass in the dull glow of the nearby lamp.

Derek smiled and sipped at his whiskey.

“Why did you choose to hide here?” he asked the boy.

“I like books,” the boy offered. “I’m more of a comic book and graphic novel kind, but I still appreciate classic literature. Besides, you have to be quiet when you’re in a library.”

Derek chuckled.

“Have you got a name?” Derek asked.

“Stiles,” the boy replied.

“That’s an odd name. Nice, but odd.”

“It’s a nickname,” Stiles explained. “My parents named me after my grandfather in order to keep peace in the family, but things fell apart and I hate being called after my namesake, so I go by the nickname my mother gave me: Stiles.”

“That’s nice,” Derek replied, his keen gaze never wandering far from the boy’s face. “I’m-”

“I know who you are, Your Highness,” the boy whispered. “I don’t think there’s a person alive who doesn’t know who you are.”

“Please don’t call me ‘Your Highness’,” Derek whispered. “Please, call me Derek.”

“Of course, Prince Derek.”

“No, just Derek,” Derek said softly.

“I can’t do that,” Stiles whispered.

“Why ever not?” Derek asked.

“Because… I’m not noble,” Stiles replied. “I’m the son of the captain of the guard.”

“Stilinski?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded.

“Your father’s a good man,” Derek told him. “But whether you’re royal or not doesn’t matter to me. I’ll call you Stiles if you call me Derek. If you don’t, then I will find out what your given name is and call you that.”

Stiles flinched, looking at Derek with panicked eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t have to if you call me Derek. Deal?”

Stiles nodded and rasped, “Deal.”

“So tell me about yourself, Stiles,” Derek prompted, sitting back against the plush cushions and watching the boy intently.

“I - - uh - - I...”

Derek smiles at Stiles’ soft blush and his anxious stammer.

“Take a breath,” Derek instructed softly. “I’m not going to bite.”

Stiles inhaled deeply and tried to calm himself.

“You like comics? What’s your favourite one?”

“ _Batman_ ,” Stiles replied. “I like them all really, but _Batman_ ’s my childhood favourite.”

“Nice, I’m more of a _Superman_ fan myself,” Derek whispered. “What about the movies?”

“No,” Stiles replied. “I mean, they’re okay in their own respect but they’re a poor representation of the comics.”

“What’s your favourite movie then?” Derek urged the boy.

“ _Star Wars_. The original trilogy.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Derek admitted.

“You’ve never seen it?!” Stiles squealed. “You _have_ to see it. It’s iconic.”

“I’ll put it on my bucket list,” Derek whispered.

Stiles seemed content with that, sitting back and sipping at the golden liquor in his glass.

“Do you live around here?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, I live with a friend on the other side of town. I moved here after my dad got a job offer and my friend moved after his boss moved shop and offered him an apprenticeship here.”

“So, where are you from originally?” Derek inquired, his eyes watching the boy with utter fascination.

“America,” Stiles replied. He took a second to breathe before correcting himself, “Beacon Hills, California.”

Derek froze, stunned for a second before he relaxed and chuckled breathlessly.

“What?” Stiles asked, a little scared that the prince was mocking him.

“That was where I was born,” Derek explained.

“No way,” Stiles gasped.

“It’s the truth,” Derek assured him. “I spent years moving between here and there. I used to live with my uncle while my parents went about their royal duties, but that all ended a few years ago when my mum and her brother had a falling out over something petty.” His voice drifted off a little, his gorgeous jade eyes flickering with pain. He sipped at his whiskey to ignore the silence. He turned back to Stiles and asked, “Do you work around here?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answered. “My friend and I own a small bookstore in town.”

“Same friend as before?” Derek asked, creasing his brow slightly. “The one you live with?”

“No, Scott’s the one I live with,” Stiles explained. “Allison is his girlfriend and my colleague.”

“Oh,” Derek muttered.

“Yeah, we all collectively moved here after college. Allison and I weren’t completely sure what we wanted to be – I didn’t have the obedience to be a police officer or security detail like my dad, and a private investigator doesn’t pay well if you don’t get any work. Anyway, we settled in here and started working part-time at a bookstore. A few months later, the manager handed over ownership to us. And here we are. It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s nice.”

“It sounds nice. I might have to drop by sometime,” Derek said, although he wasn’t sure whether Stiles would take it as a promise or a threat. God, he hoped the boy took it the way it was intended, as a promise.

They sat like that for at least an hour, just talking and enjoying each other’s company.

Derek kept his eyes fixed on the boy, listening intently and watching his every movement.

God, this boy was gorgeous.

His moonlight pale skin was decorated with moles, charting constellations across his flesh. His lips were full, pink, and enticing. His smiles was gorgeous, his cheeks dipped into dimples and his eyes – oh God, those eyes – glistened with joy.

Despite the trembling and anxious flailing gestures, his hands were sturdy, slender and elegant. The skin of his palms seemed soft – no callouses or course skin – and Derek couldn’t help but find himself drawn to the thought of what those hands might feel like on his own skin.

In the far ballroom they could hear the music dim while her majesty, Queen Talia made a speech thanking her guests for attending the gala before the soft melodies of waltzes returned and the guests continued to dance the night away.

Derek sighed. “You know it’s a lie right?”

Stiles looked at him, confused.

“My mother says that his ball is to thank the dignitaries who have built upon our nation through charity events and community support programs, but really it’s a front for the fact that she’s trying to find me a wife.”

“Then why aren’t you in there picking the cream of the crop?” Stiles asked.

“Because I don’t want a wife,” Derek replied.

Stiles looked at him for a moment and Derek could see the thoughts clicking behind his glimmering eyes.

“I have a question for you, but I’m scared of asking it in fear of being hanged or beheaded,” Stiles muttered.

“What is it?”

“Do you…. Do you not want to get married because you’re not ready or because…” Stiles coughed awkwardly, gnawing at his lip as he summed up the courage to ask, “Do you like guys or girls?”

“I like both, but only if they’re likable,” Derek replied honestly. “You?”

“Same,” the boy answered. “But really, I’m desperate enough to take whatever I get, because who’s going to want someone as messed up as me?”

“You’re not messed up,” Derek argued, his voice was soft, pained by the boy’s poor view of himself. If only he could see himself the way Derek did.

“Stiles, I really want to kiss you right now,” Derek confessed. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to because of whatever power you perceive me to have. So, if you feel the same way as me…”

Stiles met his gaze.

Derek could see the boy’s breath hitch and could almost hear his heart pounding against his ribs.

Stiles blinked for a few seconds, trying to process what Derek had said.

Derek waited patiently; he didn’t want to pressure the boy and make this awkward.

Stiles gnawed at his lip again. He set down his glass and shuffled across the cushions of the couch, edging closer. His lips quivered with nervous breaths as he leant forwards and brought their lips together.

It was a tender kiss: gentle, and almost chaste.

Derek fought back the urge to just dominate the boy with a passionate kiss, waiting patiently until Stiles relaxed. After that, he returned the kiss, keeping it tender as he leant forward slightly.

Stiles hummed approvingly against his lips.

Stiles felt his arms instinctively slide up to Derek’s neck, his fingertips brushing against Derek’s whisker-dusted jaw. He dropped his wandering fingers to the starchy collar of Derek’s dress shirt before trailing back to the nape of his neck. He laced his fingers through the soft tufts of Derek’s hair.

Stiles felt his heartbeat rise into his throat. His lungs burnt, desperate for air. The hand at the base of Derek’s neck began to tremble.

Derek drew back, enough for the boy to draw breath before bringing their lips together again.

Stiles felt his shoulders drop as he weakened in Derek’s hold. His eyes fluttered shut as he looped his arms around Derek’s neck, desperately clawing at the back of his jacket.

Derek’s hands fell into place, one on the boy’s slender hip and the other at the base of his skull. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss. The boy’s lips were so warm and inviting that Derek lost himself in the bliss of their tender kiss.

Stiles hummed, urging Derek on.

Derek wound his hand around Stiles’ waist and pulled him close, sitting the boy in his lap and enveloping the smaller boy in his warmth. He ran his tongue across Stiles’ bottom lip and moaned as Stiles obediently opened his mouth to welcome Derek’s tongue.

Stiles sighed and whimpered in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s hair, balling the raven black locks into his fist as the other hand running down the man’s shoulder, bicep and back, trying to feel every inch of Derek’s skin.

He fell weak in Derek’s arms. His lungs burnt so much he wanted to cry but he desperately didn’t want to let go.

Derek drew back, licking his lips and grinning at Stiles’ euphoric expression.

Stiles tilted his chin as he chased Derek’s lips.

Derek chuckled against his quivering, pleading lips as he brought them back together again. He kissed Stiles lightly, drawing away quickly as he craned his neck and placed a trail of kisses across the boy’s cheek, jaw, chin, and neck. He stayed there, gently sucking and nipping at Stiles’ pale skin and moles. He pressed soft kisses against the patches of skin eliciting soft moans and needy whimpers from the boy.

His hands slid beneath Stiles’ jacket, untucking his dress shirt at the back and running his broad hand up the curve of the boy’s spine. Stiles arched to his touch, throwing his head back and exposing himself to Derek even more.

Derek smiled, his expression softening as he brought his mouth back to Stiles’. The kiss was tender and loving, but it quickly escalated into something more savagely passionate. It was hard, deep and messy. Stiles looped his arms around Derek’s neck and used his weight to pull the man closer. He opened his mouth and heeded to Derek’s dominating tongue.

The boy occasionally let out a small whimper or drawn out moan, urging the man on.

Stiles shuffled further into Derek’s lap, craning his neck and deepening the kiss.

Derek settled his hand on Stiles’ waist and encouraged the boy to follow as he laid back across the cushions of the couch.

Stiles melted into the kiss, weakening and relaxing as the shape of his body fitted perfectly with Derek’s, like a piece of a puzzle where the curvy edges fit without fault.

Derek ran his hand up and down Stiles’ side, feeling the warm flesh that covered the rises and ridges of the boy’s ribs. He felt Stiles shiver at his touch as he hummed against Derek’s lips.

Derek freed one hand and cupped the back of Stiles’ head. He ran his other hand down to the boy’s hip and rolled the boy over on the couch until Derek was on top.

Stiles looped his arms around Derek’s shoulders, pulling the man closer. He hooked one leg around Derek’s thigh, grinding their hips together.

Derek moaned encouragingly, using his hand on Stiles’ hip to hoist the boy closer. He returned Stiles’ teasing grinds with a slow roll, pushing Stiles back against the soft cushions of the couch.

Derek pulled back, heaving in rugged breaths as he shrugged off his suit jacket. He tossed it over the far arm of the couch.

Stiles leant up and eagerly littered kisses across Derek’s throat. His nimble fingers tugged at the silky fabric of the prince’s tie, loosening it to expose the golden flesh of his throat.

Stiles ran his lips across Derek’s skin, covering the man’s throat in sloppy, open mouthed kisses. He trailed the tender kisses down to the ridges of his collarbone before trailing them up to the Derek’s broad shoulders.

Derek arched towards Stiles’ warmth, a soft purr escaping his lips.

Stiles gently nipped at the man’s skin, feeling him shudder and moan in response. He nipped at the flesh again and again, until Derek laced his hand through the boy’s soft locks and gently pulled him back.

Derek craned his neck and brought their lips together again in a savagely passionate kiss.

As he drew back for air, Stiles chased his lips.

The boy’s soft, rosy lips quivered as he helplessly pleaded for more.

“Derek,” he whispered, needy and helpless. “Derek.”

“Hmm?” Derek hummed.

“What are we doing?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s called kissing,” Derek replied.

“But you’re a prince, I’ll be hanged for this,” Stiles said anxiously.

“No, you won’t,” Derek assured him. “And if you’re worried about being caught, we could always take this to my bedroom. Unless, of course, you want to stop. And if you do I promise I will not be offended.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Stiles blurted out.

It took Stiles a second to realise what he had said and how needy he had sounded. His eyes widened with fear, and a hot blush reddened his cheeks. He gently gnawed at his lips, dropping his gaze away from Derek’s.

“I mean…” he stuttered to a stop.

Derek lent forward and pressed a tender kiss to Stiles’ lips. “I don’t want to either.”

He took a hold of Stiles’ hand and made his way through the door at the opposite end of the room, leading the boy further away from the party. He pushed open the large door and stepped into the room. He quickly shut the door and pushed Stiles up against it. He brought their lips together again, his hands quickly stripping the boy of his jacket and his shirt.

Stiles hummed against Derek’s lips and returned the favour, relieving the prince of his shirt and tie.

Derek rolled his hips against Stiles’, pinning the smaller boy to the rich oak of the door as he caressed Stiles’ thighs. Derek felt the muscles of Stiles’ legs tremble at his touch, sacrificing his delightful caress to set his hand on the boy’s waist to steady him.

He took a step back, gently urging the boy to follow him as he led Stiles over to the bed and laid him back against the plush mattress and thick sheets. He shuffled across the sheets, straddling the boy’s waist and bringing their lips together again.

Stiles was perfect. His lips were soft and warm and inviting. His touch was tender and despite his nerves they explored Derek’s half-naked body with an almost-youthful curiosity. His eyes - - oh God, his eyes - - Derek could drown in their amber depths, lose himself in the darkness of the boy’s irises and be content with that.

Derek pulled back, just enough to make the boy chase his lips and open his eyes when he wasn’t satisfied.

There they were: the golden depths that were consumed by dark desire, his onyx black pupils dissolving the intoxicating colour of his eyes.

Derek rocked his body, crushing his mouth against Stiles’.

He wanted more.

He wanted every part of this boy.

He wanted to kiss every inch of his freckled skin, but he didn’t want to break the kiss. He wanted to caress every part of the boy’s body, but he was scared that if he moved his hand from the boy’s hip, Stiles would sink away from him and Derek would wake from a dream. He wanted to kiss him forever, but he knew they both needed to draw breath.

“Stiles,” the name rolled off his lips before he could stop it – so smooth and natural, as if he had known it all his life. His husky whisper stirred the boy, making him shiver and whimper. “Stiles.”

The boy’s hands stilled, his fingers were ice cold and his heart beating almost audibly as he rasped, “Wait.”

Derek pulled back, giving the boy room to breathe.

“I-I can’t…” Stiles stuttered. His eyes glistened with tears as he buried his face in his hands. “I can’t.”

“Hey,” Derek whispered. “It’s okay.”

“I didn’t meant to lead you on, I just…”

“Stiles,” Derek said softly, pulling the boy’s hands away from his face. “You didn’t lead me on,” Derek assured him. “And I told you, we can stop at any time. I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

Derek clambered off of the boy’s waist and laid down next to him.

“I’m sorry,” the boy croaked. He sat upright and looked at Derek with an honest gaze. “You’re a nice guy, you really are. You deserve better than me. And I just… I don’t know if I can…”

Derek rolled onto his side and leant close, pressing a soft kiss to Stiles’ cheek. “No-one’s asking you to do anything you don’t want to, so stop worrying.”

“I just don’t want to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Derek assured him.

Stiles hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Stiles was silent.

Derek was scared he was going to turn and leave. He laid back down against the mattress, nestling his head among the pillows and stretching his arm out to one side.

Stiles looked at him, his eyes sparking with confusion.

Derek raised his brow quizzically.

“Or not,” Derek whispered, pulling his arm back and rolling on his side. “It’s up to you.”

Stiles seemed to realise what he had meant.

“Wait,” the boy chirped. “I can stay?”

“Of course,” Derek replied. “In fact, I’d rather you did. But if you want to leave, I understand.”

“No, no, no,” Stiles begged, gently tugging Derek onto his back and laying down against the man’s chest.

Derek coiled his arms around the boy’s shoulder, pulling him closer into his warmth.

He pressed a tender kiss to the crown of the Stiles’ head and whispered, “Goodnight, Stiles.”

Stiles muttered a reply, nuzzling his face into the comfort of Derek’s embrace.

Derek waited for a moment, his eyes focused on Stiles as the boy settled and his breathing slowed.

Derek smiled softly, letting his eyes fall shut.

This is what he really wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a W.I.P and I'm sorry it took so long to update it.
> 
> That being said, I'm taking a small break from my larger projects before uni starts back for me and I'm going to try and get this fic and maybe one or two other small ones finished.   
> However, my beautiful betas Emily (TooFarForward) and Christina (MistakenValkyrie) are super busy so I'm going betaless, which for me might be a big mistake. If you find any errors in my writing please let me know and I will fix them as soon as I can.
> 
> Thank you all for you patience and I hope you enjoy the rest of the fic.

Stiles slowly stirred awake, completely comfortable in the warm embrace of the man’s strong arms.

Across the room from him, the large curtains billowed in the morning breeze, the fabric wavering and bright light strobing. It burnt his eyes, making him squeeze them shut and groan.

He let out a quiet moan as he turned around and snuggled into the warm shadow of Derek’s chest.

He felt the arm that was laid across his slender waist tighten as the boy was pulled closer against Derek’s bare chest.

Stiles snuggled closer to the boy in response, nuzzling his face against the man’s golden skin.

Derek craned his neck and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of the boy’s head, burying his face in the tousled mess of chestnut hair.

Stiles blinked his lethargic eyes open. “Hmm?”

“Good morning,” Derek whispered, gently stroking down the unkempt locks.

“’Morning,” Stiles slurred. After a second his eyes flew open wide and he muttered, “Oh God.”

Derek’s brow dropped, confused.

“Did I stay the night?” Stiles asked.

Derek smiled sweetly, his eyes glistening as he cooed, “Yeah, you did.”

“With you?”

Derek nodded.

“Am I going to be hanged?” Stiles croaked.

“No,” Derek assured him, chuckling slightly as he cautiously reached forward and gently brushed the back of his fingers across the pale skin of the boy’s cheek. He leant forward and brought their lips together in a chaste kiss before whispered, “I would never let them.”

Stiles felt a smile lift the corners of his lips as his eyes fluttered shut and he leant in for another kiss.

Derek was more than happy to oblige, cupping the boy’s face and bringing their mouths together again.

Stiles melted into the kiss, letting out a soft sigh as his shoulders dropped. His slender hands trembled slightly as they slid up the man’s toned muscles, feeling every peak and valley in his warm flesh.

He drew back slowly, feeling Derek’s break roll across his lips as the prince rested his head against the boy’s.

“We should probably get out of bed,” Derek whispered, his voice hinting at his distaste towards the idea. “If I’m not up soon, my sisters will be in here to wake me and, considering your timidness, I’ll spare you the confrontation.”

“Thank you,” Stiles replied. “What time is it?”

Derek glanced over Stiles’ shoulder at the small clock that sat on his bedside table.

“Nine thirty,” he announced.

“Shit,” Stiles gasped, leaping from the bed and fumbling for his clothes.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, rising to his feet with a worried expression on his face.

“I should have been at work half an hour ago,” Stiles explained before he quickly dissolved into rambling words. “Now I’ve got to call my roommate and tell him to bring me a change of clothes at work, which means Allison is going to interrogate me about what happened last night and she has this freakish skill where she can get the truth out of you. I don’t want to tell her the truth, and – even if I did – she probably wouldn’t believe me because I’m me and you’re…”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted, stepping forward and catching the boy’s trembling hands and pulling him close. He waited for the boy to quieten and settle before heling him button up his shirt.

His hands trailed up the boy’s arms, helping him pull on the jacket of his tuxedo before trailing up the boy’s lapels and cupping the boy’s cheeks. He brought their lips together again in a gentle, loving kiss.

When he drew back he gazed into Stiles’ eyes and whispered, “It’s okay. If she gets it out of you then that’s fine, I’m not ashamed and besides we didn’t do anything… promiscuous.”

Stiles seemed to relax.

“Promise me I’ll see you again,” Derek pleaded.

Stiles’ heart fluttered slightly as he whispered, “I promise I’ll try.”

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

After his hurried dressing and quick departure, Derek helped him sneak out the back of the palace grounds unnoticed. He sprinted down the street, calling Allison to apologise for running late and texting Scott to bring him a change of clothes.

Finally, after running for twenty minutes straight, he made it to the book store, panting and sweating.

“Scott left the duffle bag in the back room,” Allison announced as the bell above the door chimed. “He also brought deodorant, water and some food for you to eat.”

“Thank you,” Stiles panted as he made his way past her and into the small office.

 He changed quickly, dumping the sweat-soaked clothes in a plastic bag – to be taken to the dry cleaners later – and got dressed in his usual clothes: jeans and a neat shirt, they weren’t the baggy tees and hoodies he’d prefer but they were the clothes he worked in.

He looked at the container full of food, scrunching his nose up at the collection of fruit and nuts that Scott had packed. He called them ‘healthy choices’ and ‘brain food’, something Stiles had never gotten on board with.

He picked the container up anyway, deciding it would be better to share it with Allison and make it look like he ate some than face the wrath of Scott when he got home.

When he emerged from the office, taking the small name badge that Allison held out to him before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her cheek. He set the container of food down and pinned the badge to his shirt.

Allison took that as her cue to turn around, swiftly spinning on the spot to look at Stiles. She didn’t say anything, lost looks at him with a firm gaze.

“I feel asleep,” Stiles explained.

Allison lifter her eyebrow, not believing him.

Stiles didn’t blame her; he never slept well and, despite sleeping through his alarm a couple of times, he always made it to work on time.

“With someone,” Stiles finished. “I feel asleep with someone.”

“After being dragged to a royal gala by your father?” Allison pushed.

“Yes,” Stiles replied, keeping his voice low despite the lack of customers in the bookstore.

He reached for the stack of new books that were yet to be put on the shelves.

“I met someone at the ball last night and I slept with them.”

“Who?” Allison asked.

Stiles pretended not to hear her, lining the books up and making them look presentable. “Huh?”

“Who was she?” Alison repeated.

Stiles made an irritating buzzer sound that made Allison cringe. He had never worked out if it was the sound that ticked her off or the fact that she got something wrong.

“He?” she corrected herself.

“’He’ has asked not to be named-” That was a lie; Derek didn’t care. “- and I would rather not give you a name, so no name, just know that I met a really nice guy at the gala last night, we hit things off and I slept with him, and by ‘slept’ I mean _slept_ as in sleep.”

“Wait, you slept?” Allison asked, shocked. “You, Stiles struggling-with-his-insomnia-since-he-was-fifteen Stilinski, slept?”

“Yeah, weird, right?”

Allison plucked one of the grapes from the container before turning back to whatever she was occupied with before.

Stiles let out a sigh of relief, glad that she had finally decided to drop the conversation.

He went about his work, restocking shelves, facing up so the store looked nice, writing down notes of diminishing stock that needed to be reordered, and setting up displays for new releases or the charity events.

“Remember we have that thing at one o’clock,” Allison called from the children’s reading corner.

Stiles peered around the end of a bookshelf. “What thing?”

“The charity event,” Allison reminded him. “The prince and one of his sisters are coming to read to the disadvantaged children.”

“Oh, right,” Stiles muttered, sinking back into the shadows of the bookshelves and out of Allison’s sight.

He tried to stead his racing hear, breathing deeply as he fought off the overwhelming wave of a panic attack.

_Derek._

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Stiles kept his distance during the charity event, focusing his efforts on processing online orders, restocking the shelves, and ordering in new stock.

He would occasionally glance over to the children’s reading corner and catch Derek’s gaze, only to smile sweetly or bow his head to hide his rosy pink blush.

He listened to the husky warmth of Derek’s voice as he and his older sister, Laura, read the stories to the children, acting out funny scenes and making ridiculous voices.

Stiles smiled at the sight of the expressions of the children: their faces lit by bright smiles and their eyes full of bewilderment and joy.

When the charity event finished and the publicists got their photo opportunities, Derek and Laura farewelled the children one by one.

“I’m going to look for a book,” Derek told his sister before disappearing among the shelves.

Stiles heard the quiet footsteps shuffle across the carpeted floor as someone walked up to his side.

A firm hand fell on Stiles’ hip.

Stiles struggled to hold in his yelp as Derek spun the boy around.

The man held his finger to his lips in a motion that suggested Stiles should stay quiet and the boy nodded.

Derek smiled and cupped the boy’s cheek, tilting his head slightly as he brought his lips to Stiles’.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh as he weakened in the man’s hold, running his hands up the front of Derek’s shirt and looping his arms around Derek’s neck.

The hand on Stiles’ hip pulled him closer, grinding their hips together slightly. The friction was enough to make Stiles moan, but he stifled it.

“Derek?” Laura’s sweet voice called from further down the store.

Derek carefully drew back and took a step back from Stiles. The man couldn’t hide his smile as he licked his lips, tasting the lingering touch of Stiles’ lips.

His sister rounded the corner of the shelves.

“What was the book called, your highness?” Stiles asked, playing off Derek’s earlier lie.

“It’s called _The Song of Achilles_ ,” Derek replied.

“I’m not sure whether we have it in stock but I can certainly order it in for you and deliver it when the next delivery of stock arrives,” Stiles offered.

“That’d be wonderful,” Derek replied with a sweet smile. “Thank you.”

Stiles bowed his head politely and watched as Derek joined his sister. They farewelled Allison and Stiles, thanked them for hosting the event and left.

“What’s that face for?” Allison asked as Stiles walked past her and over to the counter.

He ignored her as he quickly put an order on the book Derek had requested, ordering a supply for the store - because why not? It was a big seller and it also put a rush on the order if you bought stock and not a singular book, but that was beside the point.

“Stiles,” Allison pushed.

“What face?” Stiles questioned.

“The lovey dovey eyes, the soft blush, the slight gnawing at the corner of your lips… oh my God.” Allison’s smile fell from her face as she finally pieced everything together. Her eyes were wide with shock. “Please tell me you didn’t spend the night with who I’m thinking about.”

“Depends on who you’re thinking about,” Stiles countered.

Allison snatched up the notepad and a pen, quickly scrawling down a name.

There was no-one in the store, but even so, this wasn’t something to be said out loud.

She turned the pad around and showed Stiles what she had written.

‘Prince Derek’.

Stiles drew in a deep breath and smiled guiltily.

Allison’s eyes grew wide.

“Oh my God, Stiles,” She shrieked, struggling to keep her voice low. “Does that mean that when he went to look for a book he was actually… you were…”

Stiles taped one finger against his nose and pointed at Allison, signalling that she got the right answer.

Allison buried her face in her hands to muffle her scream.

“Allison, it’s not a big of a deal. You’re making it out to be some kind of disastrous decision,” Stiles assured her. “We kissed a little and I slept with him, that’s it.”

“Stiles, you aren’t talking about the cute football jock you hooked up with behind the bleachers, you are talking about the crowned prince,” Allison whispered.

“Allison, calm down. I know what I’m doing – kind of – and I promise I will stop this before it gets too far,” Stiles promised. “Besides, I don’t even know if it is a thing.”

Allison thought for a moment, trying to piece together her thoughts. “How do you know he’s not using his status and power to lead you on and use you?”

“I don’t,” Stiles admitted. “All I can say is Derek’s not that kind of guy and it’s not like I’m going to find anything better. After all, I’m…”

Stiles looked defeated as he filed through the hundreds of words that described him: broken, unattractive, hyperactive, hypervigilant, desperate, and everything else he has been called in the past eighteen years of his life.

“Stiles, there’s someone out there for you,” Allison assured him. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Stiles promised. “I’ll be okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

Once Derek’s order came in, Stiles made sure he delivered it in person: boxed and decorated with a silky ribbon. He met Derek in the library and gave him the book.

Derek smiled and thanked Stiles for it. He paid Stiles for the book and sat down on the couch.

Stiles hesitated for a moment but sat down across from him, like they had the night of the gala.

“If each book gets personally delivered, I might have to order another one,” Derek jested.

Stiles smiled and bowed his head, hiding his blush in the shadows cast across his face.

Derek leant forward across the couch, sliding his finger beneath Stiles’ chin and lifting the boy’s face to meet his gaze.

“But I hope I need a reason to spend time with you?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head. “It would be suspect if a commoner kept coming to see you.”

“You’re not a commoner,” Derek argued.

“I’m not royalty or staff,” Stiles reiterated.

“That doesn’t matter,” Derek whispered.

“You say that now, but I don’t think others would agree,” Stiles replied.

“Derek!” a young girl shouted from beyond the double doors.

Derek rolled his eyes and sat back as the young woman – maybe a year or two younger than Stiles – came bursting through the large doors and into the library.

“Yes, Cora?” Derek asked calmly.

“Mum wants to see you,” the young princess announced before turning around and leaving.

Derek sighed.

“I should get back to work,” Stiles admitted.

“Okay,” Derek whispered, reaching for a notebook and pen on the small coffee table. He quickly write down something and tore out the page. “My phone number and another book if you need a reason.”

He quickly pulled out some money.

“And that should cover the book and delivery cost,” Derek said softly. “Any spare change you can consider a donation to the shop.”

“I can’t take that,” Stiles objected.

“Then consider it a donation to the disadvantaged children,” Derek encouraged.

Stiles sighed and caved. Stiles took the money and the piece of paper, carefully folded the note and put it in his pocket.

Derek leant forward and brought their lips together in a delicate, chaste kiss.

“Call or text anytime about anything,” Derek whispered. ”Promise me you will.”

“I promise,” Stiles replied.

He watched Derek leave, taking a second to compose himself before leaving.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

That night, Stiles laid in his bed, staring up at his phone. He had added Derek’s number to his phone and was staring at the blank message box, thinking about what to write.

He quickly typed out a message and sent it before he could overthink it and stop himself.

 

I’m probably the last you want to talk to right not but hi.

 

A small bar of text lit up beneath the message bubble. ‘Sent’.

Stiles cringed.

“Oh God, I’m an idiot,” he whined. “He doesn’t care. I could have written something flirty or funny or smart.”

He grabbed the pillow from behind his head and smothered his face, screaming into it.

A minute later, his phone chimed with the notification of a new message.

Stiles peered out from under his pillow, unlocking his phone to read the message.

 

**Derek**

No, you’re the only one I want to talk to.

 

Stiles couldn’t help but blush. He buried his face in the pillow again.

He tried to imagine what Derek was doing, but the thought of the crowned prince lying back on his bed and smiling as he texted Stiles didn’t quite seem to fit.

The phone chimed slightly as another message came in.

 

**Derek**

How was your day?

 

Stiles typed out his message.

 

Pretty uneventful. Had a couple of quirky customers come in, but that’s   
just another day in retail. I have that book set aside for you and I can bring   
it over whenever you’re free. How about you?

 

He sent it and eagerly awaited the reply.

A minute later his phone chimed and a new message showed up on his screen.

 

**Derek**

That sounds like fun, or at least it does until they start causing trouble.

I don’t have a lot of experience in retail but I can sympathise on the side of   
dealing with unique people, some are lovely and individual and others are…  
unique.

My day was quite normal for me, paperwork and appointments and dealing  
with my little sister.

And that would be lovely. I have a lot of time on my hands tomorrow and   
I’d love to see you.

 

Stiles bit into his lips, hiding his hot cheeks in the plush cushion.

 

That’s one way to put it. We have one guy that comes in every Thursday  
 and picks the books off of the shelves, looks at them, stacks them on the   
floor and leaves them there. He never buys anything, just stacks the books  
 on the floor and leaves.

I’ve always been a single child but my best friend is like a brother to be so I   
guess I can sympathise slightly.

I’ve only got a half shift tomorrow so I can come over any time after one.

 

He sent the message, realising he had rambled and sent a massive text, but after a minute or so Derek sent him a reply.

 

**Derek**

That sounds frustrating, but from an outside perspective it is quite funny.

Sounds like the perfect friendship.

Any time after one sounds perfect.

 

He quickly typed out a response, reading it over once more to check for any typos,

 

An outwards perspective would be a blessing.

And Scott is the perfect friend. He has, after all, put up with me all these years.

 

He sent the message and set his phone down, cleaning away a space on his bed to sleep and laying out his clothes ready for work tomorrow; he could never be trusted to wake up when his alarm went off so he always set out everything for the morning in case he had to rush.

When his phone chimed again, he sat down on the edge of his bed to read the message.

 

**Derek**

I’d love to get to know you that well.

I should probably let you rest now, it is getting late and you have to be up   
early for work.

I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Stiles.

 

Stiles felt his heart flutter.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment while he summoned up the nerve to write a response.

 

I’d like that too.

As much as I’d love to stay up all night and talk, I should head off to bed.   
And you should too.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sweet dreams.

 

He set his phone down and rolled onto his bed.

He knew he was smiling like an idiot but he didn’t care.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

As promised, Stiles showed up on the palace grounds with the small parcel in his hands.

As he crossed the cobblestone pathway that led up to the front doors, a familiar voice called to him.

“Stiles?”

The boy span around and grinned. “Hi, Dad.”

The man squinted at his son suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

“His highness, Prince Derek, placed a book on order and I promised I’d deliver it in person as soon as it came in,” Stiles explained.

“It’s alright,” a husky voice called from the rooftop above them.

Stiles looked up, squinting slightly as he made out the silhouette of a large figure.

“Come on up, Stiles,” Derek beckoned.

Stiles looked at his dad.

“There’s a staircase on the east side of the building,” his father explained, pointing in the direction Stiles needed to go. “It’ll take you right up there.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Stiles replied as he turned and made his way towards the staircase. He climbed up the fleets of stairs until they finally levelled out at his destination.

Stiles stepped out onto the rooftop and looked around for Derek.

The roof of the palace was decorated with brightly coloured flowers, small shrubs and gorgeous floral arrangements, all set out in a unique garden.

Stiles turned about, bewildered by the wondrous place.

“This is my second favourite place to hide away,” Derek called.

Stiles peered around, still trying to find the prince. He found the man slouching back against the brick wall, watching Stiles with glittering aventurine eyes. He was dressed rather casually in a Henley and a pair of jeans, a look that was perfect for him. The top few buttons hung loose, exposing the light dusting of chest hair and the small medallion that sat against his collar bone.

Derek straightened his back, standing upright and walking over the boy’s side.

His hands instinctively fell to Stiles’ hips as he pulled him closer, feeling the warmth of the boy’s body melt into his own. One hand trailed up Stiles’ side and cupped the back of the boy’s head, lacing his fingers through the boy’s hair. He pulled Stiles closer and brought their lips together again.

Stiles hummed blissfully as he weakened in Derek’s hold.

Derek walked the boy back up against the wall. He pressed his hips against Stiles’, pushing him back against the door but not pinning him there in fear of trapping him and startling him.

Stiles slid his hand up under the hem of Derek’s shirt, feeling the taut muscles that twitched beneath the man’s golden flesh. He caressed the man’s soft skin, feeling the smooth curves and the warmth of his body. God, he was perfect.

Stiles tried desperately to make that moment last forever, but the burning pain in his lungs forced him to break away for air. Derek chased the boy’s soft pink lips, bringing them together again.

He kissed him lightly, drawing away quickly as he craned his neck and placed a trail of kisses across the boy’s cheek, jaw, chin, and neck. He stayed there, gently sucking and nipping at Stiles’ pale skin and moles; brushing his teeth against them just hard enough to make the boy moan but not hard enough to leave a mark. He pressed soft kisses against the patches of skin which were marred by the soft impressions of his teeth. His hands slid beneath Stiles’ hoodie and ran up the curve of his spine, urging the boy arch to his touch.

The kiss was tender and loving, but it quickly escalated into something more savagely passionate. It was hard, deep and messy. Stiles looped his arms around Derek’s neck, using his weight to pull the man closer. He opened his mouth and heeded to Derek’s dominating tongue.

Derek laced his fingers through Stiles’ hair, the buds of his fingers gently massaging his scalp.

Stiles hummed against Derek’s lips.

The hand on the boy’s hip pulled him closer, the ball of his thumb rubbing circles on the pale, exposed patch of Stiles’ skin.

Stiles drew back again, resting his forehead against Derek’s. He could feel Derek’s rugged breaths pant against his lips, the trails of warmth lingering on his lips.

Derek sighed, pressing their foreheads together. Stiles shuddered beneath his touch as Derek ran his hands up his sides, caressing him as if he was testing if this was reality.

Stiles blinked open his eyes, the amber depths consumed by the onyx depths of desire.

Derek looked back, his aventurine eyes glittering with love. He craned his neck and bought their mouths together again, brushing his lips across Stiles’ lightly – barely a kiss.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped.

“Yes?”

Stiles took control of the situation for a second, setting the book down on the small stand beside them and cupping Derek’s face in his hands. He tilted his head and brought their mouths together again.

Derek weakened in his hold, melting into the warmth of Stiles’ lips and losing himself in the euphoria of the kiss.

Stiles drew back slowly, resting his forehead against Derek’s as he tried to steady his breathing. He blinked his eyes open slightly, looking at Derek’s gorgeous smile.

“Wow,” Derek whispered.

“No-one’s going to see us, right?” Stiles asked.

“No,” Derek assured him, keeping his voice low and quiet. “I’m the only one who comes up here and there are not security cameras. It’s just us.”

“Okay,” Stiles said quietly, gently pulling Derek closer again and crushing their mouths together.

Derek moaned and ground his hips against Stiles’ pining him back against the wall.

Stiles smiled into the kiss.

It was indescribable. Just perfect.

Derek’s phone chimed, interrupting them.

The man sighed as he pulled back.

“I never get a moment of peace,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” Stiles assured him.

Derek checked his phone.

“It’s Laura,” he explained. “She wants to talk to me about something.”

“Go, it’s alright,” Stiles whispered.

Derek gave him another quick, tender kiss.

“I’d better be heading home before my dad gets suspicious,” Stiles told him. “So just text me any more books you may want and I’ll bring them around.”

“Sounds like a plan.”


	4. Chapter 4

They texted back and forth over the next few days until Derek could think of a book he wanted. Stiles ordered the book and set up a time and date to deliver it to the palace. But when he got there, he was confronted with the escalating volume of a sibling spat.

“Cora, give it back!” Derek shouted.

“No,” his little sister screamed. “Why should I? Why should you get it?”

“Because Dad gave it to me,” Derek argued.

“It’s just a piece of junk!” Cora shrieked, hurling the object in her hand down at the ground.

It shattered like glass against the floor, scattering chunks of clay across the smooth marble tiles.

Stiles held his breath as he looked at Derek. The man didn’t yell nor he did move to chase his sister or run away, he just stood as still as a statue, tears welling in his eyes as he stared down at the broken medallion.

“Cora!” Laura bellowed, storming across the foyer and grabbing her little sister’s hand.

Cora fought her sister’s hold by Laura didn’t yield, dragging her into the other room.

The doors swung shut behind them but Stiles could hear Laura’s muffled shouts as she yelled at her sister.

Stiles hurried forward, dropping to his knees and picking up the fragments of Derek’s medallion. He was careful not to break them any more to scatter them across the floor.

He cupped the pieces in his hands and held them out to Derek.

The man took them, silent as he looked down at the ruined medallion.

Stiles had never seen him like this: utterly broken.

Derek led the way into the library and slumped down on the couch.

“It was a gift from my father,” he muttered, staring down at the chunks of clay in his hands. “The last birthday present he ever gave me. Cora’s always been jealous and I don’t blame her; she was only a baby when he died, she never got to meet him. For years she’s been stealing it from me and trying to hide it but I never thought she’d…”

“Maybe you could fix it,” Stiles mumbled as he carefully sat down next to Derek. “Allison makes jewellery as a hobby, maybe she can help.”

“You think so?” Derek asked, looking up at Stiles with glittering aventurine eyes.

“It’s worth a shot, right?” Stiles offered.

The boy paused for a moment and thought.

“Here,” he whispered, unfastening the small silver chain bracelet that was wound around his wrist. “My mother gave this to me a few days before she passed away.”

He held it out for Derek.

“I can’t take that,” Derek objected.

“It’s only fair,” Stiles argued. “I’ll take your father’s necklace to see if I can fix it and you can hold onto my mother’s bracelet until I come back.”

Derek looked deep into his eyes, his glittering depths full of admiration and love. He smiled weakly and held his wrist out.

Stiles wrapped the bracelet around his wrist and fastened it in place. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of unused tissues, laying them out and using them as a cushion for the broken parts of Derek’s pendant. He carefully wrapped it up and slid it into his jacket pocket before offered Derek the book.

“Thank you,” Derek whispered. “I mean it, Stiles. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m not completely sure I can fix it.”

“But you’re trying,” Derek pointed out. He leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Stiles’ lips. “Thank you.”

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

A week later, Stiles came to see Derek again with two small boxes in his hands.

His father greeted him at the door and, after a quick explanation, he ushered Stiles through to the library.

Derek was seated on the couch, reading the book Stiles had brought last week. He glanced up to see who had entered, his face brightening and a sweet smile lifting his lips when his eyes fell upon Stiles.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Derek greeted.

He glanced over Stiles’ shoulder and politely nodded to Stiles’ father in order to dismiss him. “Thank you, Captain. That will be all.”

The man nodded. He eyed his son suspiciously but shut the door and left the two to their own devices.

Derek slid a bookmark into place and set the book down on the small table.

Stiles was quiet, his heart beating painfully against his ribs as he stepped over to the couch.

Derek patted at the cushion beside him and Stiles obediently sat, his eyes focused on the small boxes in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles apologised. “Allison and I were able to put the pendant back together but it’s so frail that you wouldn’t be able to wear it.”

He offered Derek the first box.

Derek opened it, looking down at the small pendant that had been settled among a soft velvet stand. Allison and Stiles had done a brilliant job of piecing it together again. There was no sign of the glue or of the large cracks but there were quite a few chips where the smaller pieces had gone missing.

He could tell how frail it was.

“We put it in a small décor box to keep it safe and I got you this-“ He handed Derek the other box. “-as an apology.”

Derek opened the second box, revealing a small silver triskelion pendant.

“Allison said that a metal one could prove that even though your father isn’t with you, your bond is forged in steel and unbreakable. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want it. I know it could never replace the actual thing but-”

Derek leant forward, bringing his moth to Stiles’ and silencing the boy.

Stiles let out a soft sigh as he melted into the warmth of the kiss.

Derek drew back slowly, resting his head against Stiles’ as he whispered, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Derek sat back to look at Stiles’ smile. He lifted the silver pendant and its chain out of the box. He slid the length of the chain around his neck and set the pendant in place on his collarbones. He rolled up his sleeve slightly and unfastened the chain around his wrist.

He tenderly took Stiles’ hand in his own and coiled the bracelet around his frail wrist, fastening it in place where it belonged.

He looked up at Stiles lovingly.

His fingers brushed across Stiles’ pulse ever so lightly making the boy shiver at the touch.

Stiles smiled and bowed his head.

“Derek,” a soft voice called from the doorway as the door opened slightly and Laura peered in. There was something about her voice, something that sounded pained and full of regret as she announced, “She’s here. Mum wants you to come and greet her.”

Derek sighed and nodded.

He looked at Stiles.

“If you want to wait here, I won’t be long,” he promised.

Stiles nodded.

Derek set the small boxes down on the coffee table and followed his older sister out into the courtyard.

Stiles fidgeted slightly as he waited in the silence of the library. He leant forward and peered out the window, watching as Derek and his mother greeted a young woman.

She was a beautiful young lady, roughly the same age as Derek if not a year or two older, with a golden wave of curls that cascaded down her back, bouncing off her translucent skin as she pranced up onstage and stood next to a gruff looking man that Stiles guessed was her father. Her smile was beautiful; pearly white teeth gleaming and her sapphire blue eyes sparkling.

Stiles had seen her face before and he knew her name: Lady Katherine Argent.

They spoke quietly before turning towards the gathering crowds of cameras by the front gate.

Queen Talia and Lady Katherine’s father left the two alone.

Stiles watched as Derek turned to face Katherine, gently cupping her cheek and bringing their mouths together.

Stiles’ heart leapt into his throat and hot tears prickled his eyes. His vision was streaked but there was no mistaking the sight of Derek getting down on one knee and proposing to her.

Stiles fought back his sobs as he turned and made his way through the palace and out through the back entrance. He picked up his heels and ran for the book shop.

He stumbled through the door, panting and fighting back his sobs.

“Stiles?” Allison called, stunned as the boy rushed past her and into the back room.

He collapsed on the couch and buried his face in his hands, finally weakening enough to let himself cry.

Warm arms pulled him into a comforting embrace as Allison gently shushed him.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“I got played,” he babbled, his voice broken by sobs as tears coursed down his cheeks. “I fell for it and he played me.”

“What are you talking about?” Allison asked.

Stiles didn’t have to answer. Her attention was drawn towards the small television in the corner of the office where every news channel was reporting the news of Prince Derek’s engagement to Lady Katherine.

Allison’s shoulders dropped as she looked down at the heart-broken boy in her arms.

“You were right,” Stiles muttered. “He was using me.”

Allison sighed. For the first time in her life, she wished she hadn’t been right.

“Oh, Stiles,” She whispered breathlessly, turning off the television and holding Stiles close. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering about whether Kate and Allison are related in Sacrifices Must be Made, the answer might shock you…  
> I don’t know.  
> Originally I planned to have it so that they weren’t related, but as I wrote I thought that maybe Allison was a Lady who had run away to live a normal life and hide from the paparazzi and social pressures.  
> But honestly, I don’t know. So whether they are or aren’t is up for you to decide.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles laid on his bed, curled up and unmoving as he stared into oblivion.

Allison had called Scott and had him pick Stiles up after his shift at the veterinary clinic. Scott had brought him home and made sure he ate something before Stiles hid away in his room.

There was a soft knock at the door and a quiet rattle as Scott peered into his room.

“Are you awake?” Scott whispered.

Stiles nodded.

“Can I come in?” Scott asked, keeping his voice quiet.

Stiles nodded again.

His friend crept into the room, shutting the door behind himself before climbing onto the bed and laying down beside Stiles. He looked at Stiles with his dark chocolate eyes that were so full of pain and worry.

“Allison told me what happened,” Scott said softly. “Are you okay?”

Stiles shook his head.

“I love him,” Stiles confessed. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten swept away. After all, what chance does a guy like me have with a guy like him?”

“He’d be lucky to have a guy like you,” Scott replied. “Anyone would be.”

Stiles tried to smile gratefully but it failed him.

His phone chimed with the notification of a new message, one of many Stiles had been ignoring.

Stiles picked it up, unlocked the screen and read the message.

 

**Derek**

You left without saying goodbye.

 

**Derek**

Is this about what was on the news?

 

**Derek**

Please, Stiles, I can explain.

 

**Derek**

Please don’t shut me out.

 

**Derek**

Stiles, I’m starting to worry. You haven’t replied to any of my  
messages. Are you okay?

 

**Derek**

Stiles?

 

**Derek**

Stiles, please talk to me.

 

**Derek**

I’m sorry.

 

“Ignoring him?” Scott asked as Stiles turned off his phone and tossed it into the pile of clean washing he was yet to put away.

Stiles nodded.

“It’s Lydia all over again,” Stiles mumbled. “I’m standing at the end of the hallway, watching as they fall in love with someone else.”

Scot didn’t know what to say. How could he? He had fallen in love with Allison from day one and they had been together ever since: no drama, no breakups, nothing.

“Can you please not look at me like that?” Stiles requested.

“Like what?” Scott asked.

“Like I’m a puppy in pain,” Stiles mumbled.

Scott sighed and bowed his head.

“I get it,” Stiles muttered. “You’re worried about me, but I’ll be fine. I always am.”

Scott gently patted his friend’s shoulder.

“Come have some dinner,” Scott encouraged. “I ordered pizza. Also, Allison’s here and she brought cookies.”

Stiles smiled. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?” Scott asked, his eyes lighting up with hope.

Stiles smirked. “It might me.”

Scott raised his brow quizzically and Stiles caved.

“Alright, yes,” Stiles admitted sitting up and making his way towards the bedroom door. “It’s working. I want cookies.”

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Stiles went about his day as usual, waking, dressing and going to work.

He had made sure that Scott woke him in the morning so he didn’t have to turn his phone on again.

He went about his routine work, restocking shelves, facing up so the store looked nice, writing down notes of diminishing stock that needed to be reordered, processing individual orders by pulling the books down and setting them in the office to be boxed and mailed, and setting up displays for new releases, charity events and themed displays.

“Are you still going to the march?” Allison asked, focusing her attention of processing the online orders.

She was referring to the gay rights march that had been planned for tomorrow. It was still going forth despite the interruptions of the plans by the announcement of the engagement and the celebratory parade for Derek and Kate.

“Maybe,” Stiles muttered. “I don’t know.”

“I think you should,” Allison said softly. “It’s more relevant now than ever before, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Stiles replied.

“Scott and I are still going,” Allison told him.

Stiles had found out many years ago that Allison was also bisexual, although she never talked about her experiences with women and she was devoted to Scott.

Scott wasn’t on the spectrum, but he was a supporter and would always show up at the rallies with Allison and Stiles. Sometimes, when they were met with resistance from homophobic and transphobic assholes, Scott could pretend to be Stiles’ boyfriend, just to piss them off. It always made Stiles and Allison smile and their hearts fill with love and pride for the man when he did, it made them feel loved and accepted.

“You don’t have to protest,” Allison continued. “But maybe you can come and just be present.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”

He was in the middle of setting up a display of streamers, hearts and cupids that were set around a collection of LGBT+ fiction and romance novels – no trashy Mills and Boon novels though - for February, the ‘month of love’, when the bell over the door chimed and a man entered.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder, taking in the sight of the man dressed in a pair of tight black jeans and a fitted dull grey Henley.

He sighed and looked away, focusing his attention on building the display.

“Stiles, please, we need to talk,” Derek called, keeping his voice low.

“About what?” Stiles asked as he rose to his feet and began to put the left over pile of books back on the shelves. “About your engagement to Lady Katherine or about how you used me?”

“Stiles,” Derek whispered. “It’s not as easy as that.”

“So you admit you used me?”

“No,” Derek yelped. He swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say. “I came here to apologise. I never meant for you to get caught up in this and I never wanted to hurt you.”

Stiles ignored him, swiftly moving through the shelves as he placed the books where they belonged.

Derek followed him.

“I didn’t know,” Derek explained. “My mum set up it all up at the gala and she didn’t tell me until yesterday morning. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You did have a choice, Derek,” Stiles snapped, turning on his heels and glaring at the man. “You had a choice to tell the truth and you didn’t. You had the choice to tell your mother how you felt and you didn’t.”

“Stiles-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Derek. Okay? I’m not Cinderella. I’m not some labouring middleclass man scrubbing floors and eating scraps. I don’t need a Prince Charming to come and sweep me off my feet.”

“I love you,” Derek blurted out.

“No, you don’t,” Stiles replied. “If you did love me, you would have fought for me.”

Stiles shoved past Derek and stormed back into the office, ignoring Derek as he called after the boy. He shut the door behind him and slumped back against it, clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs as warm tears trailed down his cheeks.

After a minute or two he heard the bell above the door chime and s quiet knock at the door.

Stiles opened it enough to let Allison into the office.

She looked at Stiles with glistening eyes full of pain.

“Why does love hurt so much?” Stiles asked, fighting back more tears.

Allison shrugged slightly, lost for words. She reached forward and welcomed Stiles into her arms.

He fell into her warmth, weakly grabbing at fistfuls of her jacket. His body shuddered as he cried, tears seeping into the fabric of Allison’s shirt as he buried his face in her shoulder.

“It’ll be okay,” Allison whispered. “I promise, it’ll all be okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

Derek let out a defeated sigh as he stepped out into the courtyard of the palace grounds.

He was dressed in a vibrant sapphire military jacket that was lined with golden trim. The stiff collar sat upright and framed his narrow throat, emphasising his firm jawline. A crisp white rose was pinned to his chest, matching the vines of white roses that were coiled around the railings of the carriages that were lined up across the cobblestones, hitched up to the gorgeous black stallions.

Derek walked forward to the two horses that were going to lead his sisters’ chariot: his own personal horse, Tiberius, and Laura’s riding horse, Titus.

They both greeted him, nuzzling their faces into his shoulders and chuffing happily.

Laura made her way over to her brother’s side.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I have to be,” Derek muttered. He drew in a deep breath and looked at his sister.

She was dressed in an elegant steel grey dress with tones of purple in it. The strapless corset hugged her curves and showed off her sleek figure. The shiny silk was drawn across her corset at a sloping angle and pulled into her waist, where the fabric was gathered in tiered ripples that accentuated the split down the side of her dress. He knew she and their mother had argued over how revealing the dress was so Laura had agreed to wear a light grey shawl over her exposed shoulders.

Behind her, Cora stood by their carriage, dressing in a gorgeous pastel pink gown. It was made to look like a cocktail-length underdress that was made of a thick, moulded fabric made to look like rippling waves. The scooped collar sat on the edges of her shoulders and the sleeves hung down slightly. The rest of her body was covered by a long draping sheet of pastel pink fabric that was pinned in place above her collarbone and hung down like a split skirt. The billowing fabric was gathered around her waist and held in place by a thick silver belt.

“You both look gorgeous,” Derek complimented.

“Thank you,” Laura said with a soft smile. “And you look dashing.”

Laura glanced over her brother’s shoulder, eyeing Kate as she stepped forward into the open air.

“Go,” Derek encouraged, watching his older sister walk back over to Cora’s side.

Captain Stilinski walked over to their carriage, offering his hand in order to help the girls into the carriage.

They both smiled and thanked him.

Derek turned his attention back to Kate.

She was dressed in an elegant silk dress, the rippling fabric shifting between shades of indigo and violet. The asymmetrical strap sat atop her shoulder, laying like a sash across half her torso and trickling down into a billowing skirt that pooled around her feet. The exposed part of the torso what made of a skin-toned bodice that was embroidered with flowers and leaves that were the same colour as the rest of the dress. To balance out the silk strap of the asymmetrical strap, a slit ran up the opposing side of her skirt and exposed her slender legs.

“You look lovely,” Derek commented.

Kate smiled and thanked him.

Derek offered her his hand, helping her climb into the carriage before following.

Derek felt sick as he sat there waiting for his mother, Queen Talia, to join them and climb into her carriage. His stomach was churning and tying itself in knots as he was overcome by waves of anxiety and guilt.

After a while the carriages lurched forward and drove out into the streets of London.

Derek smiled and waved, a practiced routine that, after years of repetition, he had perfected. It was a façade, a false joy that hid his true emotions.

The crowd cheered and applauded as the carriages rode through the streets.

It was a blur of faces and voices. At least it was until he spied one face that stood out among the others.

He froze.

The boy’s glittering amber eyes met Derek’s.

Stiles.

Derek’s smile fell from his face.

The boy looked at him, his face full of emotion – anger, shock, sorrow and much more. His lips quivered and he quickly turned his face away and muttered something to Allison.

Derek turned his face away, bowing his head as he glanced at Kate.

“Kate,” Derek whispered. “Would you marry someone you don’t love?”

Kate looked at him, her bright blue eyes glimmering with a hint of confusion.

“No,” she replied. “No, I would not.”

Derek met her gaze.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

Kate swallowed hard. She took a second before replying honestly, “No, I do not.”

Derek nodded and smiled sweetly.

“Then I wish you all the best,” he whispered.

He leant across and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Derek rose to his feet and leapt out of the carriage. His feet struck the ground and he steadied himself quickly.

The parade pulled to a halt as everyone watched on in shock and confusion.

He straightened his jacket, ignoring the socked gasped and eager cries of the crowd as he made his way back down the street. He waved at them, smiling as he continued to make his way back down the street. He kept his eyes forward, not daring to look back at his mother or at the cart where his sisters sat.

“Derek,” Laura called, confused.

“Trust me,” Derek replied. “I know what I’m doing.”

He stopped before the gathering group of people, all holding signs that advocated for gay rights and marriage equality. He steadied his breathing and levelled his eyes with the boy at the back of the crowd.

Stiles had that look on his face, the same look that he had had when he had first met Derek: shock and amazement, as if he didn’t believe what was happening.

Derek took a step forward, muttering something to the police guards that barricaded off the streets for the parade. They moved aside the metal barriers and let Derek step into the crowd.

He walked forward, the crowd parting to give way to him as he approached Stiles. He was unable to take his eyes off of Stiles.

“I’ve made my choice,” he called, his voice quiet enough that only Stiles could hear him.

The boy looked at him, stunned.

Derek made his way through the crowd and stood before Stiles.

“No more hiding,” Derek whispered. “I’m fighting for what I love.”

He reached forward and gently cupped the boy’s cheeks in his hands, bringing their lips together.

Stiles froze for a second, his hands resting against Derek’s chest as he struggled to choose between pulling him closer and shoving him away. He weakened into the man’s hold, melting into Derek’s warmth as he returned the kiss.

The crowd was a mix of roaring cheers and shocked gasps, but they didn’t care.

One of Derek’s hands ran through the boy’s hair, his soft chestnut locks sliding between Derek’s slender digits as he laced his fingers through the boy’s hair. He pulled Stiles closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Stiles hummed blissfully, tears prickling in his eyes as his arms slid up Derek’s shirt and his arms looped around Derek’s neck.

Derek tried desperately to make that moment last forever, but the burning pain in his lungs forced him to break away for air. He drew back enough that they could breathe, resting his forehead against Stiles’.

The heat of their breaths played across their lips.

“Why?” Stiles whispered breathlessly.

“Because I realised that I could live without so many things, but you are not one of them,” Derek replied. “Please, forgive me.”

“I’ll think about it,” Stiles teased.

“Come with me,” Derek encouraged, sliding his hand into Stiles’.

Stiles followed, letting Derek lead him out of the crowd and onto the streets. He walked over to his sister’s carriage where the driver had predicted his thoughts and was already unhitching Tiberius.

Laura looked down at her brother with pride while Cora looked at him with a knowing smirk.

“I’ve never ridden a horse,” Stiles told Derek.

“It’s okay,” Derek assured him. “I’ll ride, you just have to hold onto me.”

Derek took Tiberius’ reins and looked back at Stiles.

“Just don’t let go,” Derek whispered.

“I won’t,” Stiles promised.

Derek mounted the horse and reached back to help Stiles climb on behind him.

Stiles coiled his arms around Derek’s waist, holding onto the man.

“Ready?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded.

He jolted slightly as the horse took off in a canter, galloping straight for the palace grounds.

The air rushed past them, the horse’s hooves striking the cobblestone streets with a steady beat.

Derek slowed the horse to a trot as they pulled up before the front door. Derek helped Stiles dismount before doing so himself. He handed Tiberius’ reins to a staff member before stepping over to Stiles’ side.

He guided the boy inside and, once they were away from prying eyes, he pulled Stiles close. His fingers brushed across the pale, mole-speckled cheek as he smiled and brought their lips together again.

Derek’s hands fell into place, one on the boy’s slender hip and the other at the base of his skull.

He felt Stiles smile against his lips.

He tilted his head and deepened the kiss. The boy’s lips were so warm and inviting that Derek lost himself in the bliss of their tender kiss.

Stiles hummed, urging Derek on.

Derek wound his hand around Stiles’ waist and pulled him close as he ran his tongue across Stiles’ bottom lip and moaned as Stiles obediently opened his mouth to welcome Derek’s tongue.

Stiles sighed and whimpered in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s hair, balling the raven black locks into his fist as the other hand running down the man’s shoulder, bicep and back, trying to feel every inch of Derek’s skin.

Derek drew back, licking his lips and grinning at Stiles’ euphoric expression.

Stiles tilted his chin as he chased Derek’s lips.

Derek chuckled against his quivering, pleading lips as he brought them back together again in a tender chaste kiss.

“Derek,” Laura called, her voice full of fear as she raced up the front stairs and into the foyer. “Mum’s coming.”

“It’s okay,” Derek said calmly.

Seconds later, Queen Talia entered.

She didn’t look mad, but her expression was firm and her dark eyes focused on Derek.

The prince stepped in front of Stiles and instinctively shielded the boy.

“Do you care to give me an explanation, Derek?” his mother asked in a way that sounded more like an order.

“I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending that I’m okay with being forced to marry a woman who I barely know. I’m sure Kate is lovely but I don’t love her, Mum,” Derek explained. “I love Stiles.”

“Derek, I support you in your life choices, you know that, but our lives aren’t normal. You just made a ridicule of all of us by stopping the parade to kiss a boy in the crowd,” Talia pointed out. “You’ve always had a flare for the dramatic but this is a little too far. Something as sensitive as this should have been handled privately and away from the eyes of the public.”

“It was until you went behind my back and arranged my marriage to Kate,” Derek argued.

“Then why did you feel like you had to hide it from me?” Talia asked.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t let me live that way,” Derek countered. “I’m not allowed to sit on the throne with a man by my side. You’d rather see me with a crown on my head and married to a woman I don’t love than with someone I love.”

Talia didn’t reply.

“You married Dad out of love, didn’t you?” Derek asked her.

“Yes, but that was different,” Talia said calmly.

“Because he was a man and you were a woman? Why should it matter whether I love a man or a woman?” Derek argued. “Why can’t I sit on the throne with the person I love?”

“Because that’s how it is,” Talia said firmly. “And neither you nor I have power over it.”

“Then I renounce my claim to the throne,” Derek said boldly. “I refuse to give up on the man I love for the sake of duty.”

He turned to face Stiles. “Come with me.”

Derek led him back through the library and into his bedroom.

Stiles turned away to give Derek a moment of privacy as he stripped out of his military jacket and dress pants and changed into casual clothes.

Derek chuckled and said, “You saw a lot more than this the first time we met.”

Stiles blushed.

“I know,” he mumbled. “But everyone deserves a little privacy.”

He waited until Derek was dressed before looking.

“Where are you thinking of going?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted. “Anywhere.”

“You can stay with me,” Stiles offered. “Scott and I share an apartment and my bedroom isn’t all that big but I’d be happy to share.”

“Are you sure Scott won’t mind?” Derek asked.

“If he does I’m sure I can talk him out of it or convince him to stay at Allison’s for a while,” Stiles replied.

Derek smiled. “I’d love to.”

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Stiles’ bedroom was nothing extravagant. The four walls were painted a comforting shade of cool blue and grey walls decorated by scattered photos of friends and family and posters. There was the occasional colourful piece of note paper tacked to the wall, scattered reminders for jobs to do or ideas for presents. Pushed up against the window was a thick wooden desk, covered in piles of printed sheets of paper, thick books of all kinds and ages, comic books, and a couple of pens and highlighters buried between sedimentary layers of paper. A large double bed was positioned in the middle of the room.

“Like I said, it’s nothing as extravagant or luxurious as what you’ve had before, but you’re welcome to stay here,” Stiles mumbled.

“Stiles, I may have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth but I know how to appreciate the little things,” Derek assured him, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulled Stiles into his lap. “Like the fact that I’ve been welcomed into a home that isn’t mine, or – more importantly – that I get to live with the man I love.”

Stiles smiled and bowed his head to hide his blush.

Derek slid his finger beneath Stiles’ chin, tilting the boy’s head up and meeting his gaze. He stared into the gorgeous golden depths of the boy’s shimmering eyes.

“I really wish you would stop hiding those gorgeous eyes from me,” Derek whispered.

Stiles cupped Derek’s face in his hands. He tilted his head and brought their mouths together again.

Derek weakened in his hold, melting into the warmth of Stiles’ lips and losing himself in the comforting bliss of the kiss.

Stiles drew back slowly, resting his forehead against Derek’s. He blinked his eyes open slightly, looking at Derek’s gorgeous smile.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered.

“What for?” Derek asked, perplexed.

“Because the other day… you said you loved me, and I never got to say it back,” Stiles explained. “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Derek pleaded.

Stiles smiled and repeated, “I love you.”

Derek laid back on the bed, pulling Stiles forward with him. He chuckled as Stiles yelped with surprise, giggling as he fell against Derek’s chest.

Derek rolled over, pinning Stiles to the sheets and littering kisses across Stiles’ neck.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped between fits of giggles.

Derek pulled back, smiling down at Stiles.

“One more time,” Derek whispered. “Please.”

Stiles reached up and cupped Derek’s cheeks, reaching up to press a tender chaste kiss to his lips as he whispered, “I love you, Derek Hale.”

Derek returned the kiss with one equally as tender as he replied, “I love you, Stiles Stilinski.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a happy ending and here it is.   
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
